A Southern Bird's Song
by xappleblossomx
Summary: Her home was full of life and the noises it made. The North was unnaturally quiet. She felt lost at the thought of waking up to the absence of a Southern bird's song. Eventual Jon/OC. Rated T for now.


**Chapter One**

The stillness in the chambers had been broken by a tired voice. "Ride this message up to Winterfell. Address it to Lord Eddard Stark. It is urgent". A shaking hand reached up to pass a folded parchment into the hands of a man in uniform. The wax that sealed it was still warm. The messenger nodded and swiftly exited the room, quiet settling again like dust.

"Aron, what business do you have with Lord Stark?" A voice emerged. "You have not spoken to him since your days together in battle-"

"He is a loyal friend of mine, no matter the amount of years that have separated us." The man interrupted. His voice was weak but firm. "Until the proper arrangements are made, my daughter will have no direction to go in, no place to settle herself. She cannot stand on her own. I am asking Lord Stark to hold her until then. I know he will take care of her." A cough struggled to escape the man's lungs.

"Fetch more milk of the poppy, it will not be long."

* * *

><p>A gust of wind whipped through her ears and sent a chill down her neck. The cold was the first thing that hit her when she began to reach the high north. It was a cold that forced it's way to your core and settled inside of you. A silence filled the air, the only sound coming from the howling of the wind and the fall of the horses' feet.<p>

She missed the richness and color of the South. Still, the North held a magical quality to it that she had never experienced before. It embodied something wild and mysterious. The farther North you traveled, the more untouched secrets that hid underneath it. This excited her imagination beyond any story she had read.

Fiona had no say in the decisions made about her journey North. All her life, she had taken orders from her superiors. Whenever she was faced with an opportunity to challenge those choices, she seemed to lose her voice. Although, she was struck with a surge of confidence as a thought passed through her: the freedom of living somewhere so far removed from what she knew.

Winterfell was beginning to appear in the distance. The rising image of it had caught her. The stone was hard and cold. It was a survivor in itself and represented the nature of the Northerner's that inhabited it. Suddenly, under the shadow of this towering structure, she again felt as small and weak as a mouse.

As she and her company arrived, the Stark family and their staff were waiting to welcome her. She had stepped off her horse, her legs feeling weak from the long journey.

"Welcome to Winterfell, Miss Tristan." She knew immediately that the voice belonged to Lord Stark. She recognized him from the stories her father had told her. Just like he described, Eddard Stark was a tall and gristly man. His voice had a weight and roughness to it, but also held a comforting tone. "I am sorry to hear about your father. He was a trusted friend of mine. I hope you will find yourself at home here. We will offer you the most comfort we can during your stay." He gave her a small nod of his head and lead her to meet his family.

She had felt awkward introducing herself. She had never met the Stark's before, only heard stories about them. That and the fact that she would be staying with them for an undocumented amount of time made her feel intrusive.

She was first introduced to the Lord's wife, Catelyn. Although she was a full blooded Tully, Fiona could see that over the years the North had shaped her like a whetstone to a blade. Everything about her resonated survival, you could read through the lines in her face. Next was Robb, Lord and Lady Stark's eldest son. She noticed the stature he held, one of a born leader. Then there was Sansa. She took her looks right after her mother, complete with her beautiful copper hair. Then came the younger siblings, Arya, Bran and Rickon.

Their appearances were vastly different from anything she knew. Their clothes bore earthly colors made of leathers and thick wools. They were made of simple but efficient materials, ideal for protection against the harsh surroundings they lived in. Their strong appearances and the aura of confidence they carried made her wish she could stand the same way.

"_Maybe I can make myself strong here._" She thought. In this place, she could learn to be a survivor, too.

"We have a room prepared for you. One of ours will lead you inside so you can settle. Please meet us for supper in the dining hall tonight." Lady Stark explained as the staff began to take her things.

Fiona finally found herself the courage to speak up.

"I am so grateful for your hospitality… " She began. "I cannot thank you enough for you and your husband's kindness towards my family during this time."

Catelyn gave her a small smile as she placed a hand on her youngest son's shoulders and led her children inside. Fiona took a deep breath, the sharp air filling her lungs as she entered the door.

* * *

><p>Echoes from the main gate trailed down to Jon's ears in the Training Arena.<p>

"_The guest must've arrived_." He thought to himself. The bitterness in his tone even rung through his head. He slowly strolled past the row of swords, running his fingers along their handles. When he was satisfied with one, he gripped it tight and pulled it from it's resting place. It made a sharp ring as it escaped. As he approached the practice dummy, he swiftly wielded the weapon and took in a breath as he prepared to strike.

Jon gritted his teeth as he swung his sword. The impact pushed the air from his lungs and left the dummy swinging limply back and forth. This was always the best way for Jon to release the turmoil that built up inside him so often. By Lady Stark's wishes, he was to be left out of the welcoming of their new guest. He was never truly a part of his family, and being the bastard son ensued things would stay that way. He was doomed to forever be in a constant orbit around them and no amount of Stark blood in his veins could change that.

"Come inside, brother. Before you whack that thing into shreds." Robb's voice caught him off guard. He turned around to face him with a deadpan expression. Robb gave out a chuckle but it soon ended in a knowing look, understanding his brother's frustration. "Dinner will be ready shortly, you may even be able to glimpse at the new guest if you're lucky." He gave out another smile.

Jon couldn't help but emit a laugh out of his brother's statement. Jon's casting out of his family by Lady Stark was often avoided as a topic of conversation among the siblings. Although, Robb had a way of turning it into a light-hearted jab which at times helped lessen the pain that Jon associated with it.

Jon twirled the sword around in his hand and suddenly cast it over to his brother, attempting to catch him off guard. Robb instinctively caught it by the handle in one swoop.

"You may think you are quick, but I am just as skilled as you." Robb said as he returned the blade to it's place. He knew Jon was playfully challenging him. While growing up together, they were always trying to one-up each other when it came to training. Although Jon was the best swordsman of the two, Robb would never let him see defeat.

"Not quite, brother. You may be a born leader, but I am a born fighter." Jon said with a smile as they made their way back inside.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: I am fairly new to the Game of Thrones world, but that didn't stop me from falling in love with it so quickly! I am very interested in Jon Snow's character and couldn't resist writing this story. It's off to a slow start, but things should pick up in the following chapter when I have the two encounter for the first time. Any feedback or criticism is greatly appreciated! It will help me better my story so let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!


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